


Mountain Women

by Mistressaq



Series: Small Projects [3]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Cabins, F/F, Fireplaces, Lesbian Sex, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 14:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistressaq/pseuds/Mistressaq
Summary: Based on a prompt by stoobloob in which Katya is a mountain woman and Brooke is a hiker who got lost





	Mountain Women

Brooke’s head spun and her muscles ached. Go hiking alone, they said. It’ll be spiritual, they said. It sure was turning out to be spiritual, because Brooke was fairly certain she was gonna freeze to death up here. The shadows around her grew longer across the ground. The temperature dropped and Brooke could see her own breath. She rubbed her arms, running through all her Canadian knowledge on how to survive the cold. But Brooke had to face the facts: she was a city girl. She didn’t know the first thing about survival in the elements like this. She was tempted to cry, but knew better. 

_ Okay. Okay. Gonna make it up to that ridge to get a decent look out on the land, and then… maybe from there I’ll get a phone signal. _ As she approached the ridge, Brooke walked past tree stumps and cleared walking paths, where the ground had been salted against ice. Her heart soared at the thought that she had come across the trail once again, only to look around in every direction as she stood on the bare outcropping of metamorphic rock, that hope was quashed. There wasn’t any sign of civilization for miles. _ I really am going to die up here, _ she thought with a huff. Brooke swept fluffy snow from a pine stump and sat down. It was still a little wet. Her ass was now _ wet, _ in addition to being cold. 

She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around herself, folding her body to protect her vital organs. Hopefully, when they eventually found her, she’d still be at least half alive, with a chance of thawing out perfectly healthy, like one of those frogs. Brooke imagined the face of her mother, her grandmother, her brothers and sister, trying to con herself into feeling the warmth of their love while all alone on a mountain, preparing herself for an icy fate.

Then she smelled smoke.

Brooke’s head snapped up, her heart skipping a beat and flooding her system with adrenaline. She’d wanted to be warm, but not wildfire-in-winter warm! It took her a moment to recognize the _ kind _ of smoke she’d inhaled. Once she did, she let out the breath she’d been holding. Glancing to her side, up a slight incline on the ridge, there stood a figure. Clad in layered furs and flannel and denim, wearing snow boots that had seen better days, the woman held a lit cigarette in one hand while protecting it from the breeze with the other. Icy blue eyes surrounded by pink skin regarded Brooke curiously. Columns of smoke jetted out from her small nostrils. Brooke stood up, and realized that the mountain woman was over a full head shorter than her-- probably 5’7” or 5’8”. The woman tugged at her wool scarf, stripping it off, only to reveal a second, beaten-up flannel scarf underneath. She held out the wad of heavy purple wool to Brooke without a word. Brooke took the scarf and wrapped it around her neck, piling the fabric up around her ears. “Thank you,” she said, louder than was probably necessary. Brooke blushed and mumbled a ‘sorry’. She just wanted to be heard over the air pressure and the breeze and the scarf. 

The smoking woman nodded and took another drag. Brooke watched longingly as the end of the cigarette lit up with tiny fire, eating its way down the white roll. Her own lungs groaned for the heat she knew the woman was pulling into her lungs. “You gonna stare or you gonna ask?” prompted the woman in a gruff, Bostonian accent.

Brooke blushed. “Ah, can I have a puff? Please?”

The Bostonian mountain woman nodded, her red lips pulling into a half-smile so slight and so quick, Brooke couldn’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it. She took the cigarette, continuing to shield the smoldering end from the elements. Red lipstick smeared the unlit end, waxy texture getting on Brooke’s mouth when she took her breath. It warmed her from the inside out, yes, clouding the thin air in her lungs, but providing a kind of warmth Brooke sorely needed right now. The rush of nicotine felt like a visit from an old friend. But she breathed too deep, choking before she regretfully handed it back. “I’m Brooke,” she said. 

The other woman breathed out her name in smoke. “Katya.”

Brooke breathed in Katya’s secondhand smoke like it was cologne. “So,” she said, trying to fill the silence. Usually Brooke preferred silence. But on this mountaintop, with icicles forming on her eyebrows, Brooke felt like Katya might disappear if she didn’t keep engaging. “What’re you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Katya extinguished her cigarette on the wet snow that gathered on a nearby stump, then stuck the butt into the snow like a little flag. “But we should probably take this inside before you freeze to death.”

With that, Katya turned on her heel and headed further up the gentle slope and between the unfelled pines. Brooke stumbled, tripping over herself as she tried to keep sight of her one hope of survival out here. Following Katya, she realized that there was a bit of a footpath through the evergreens that she hadn’t noticed before. The path curved, and there were makeshift stairs leading up to another ridge, upon which sat a cabin. From her angle, Brooke could only see the snow-dusted roof, but the sight of shelter made her heart sing. She almost felt compelled to dance, but her numb feet and aching legs wouldn’t have complied. 

“I salt the steps,” said Katya as she took the rock carved stairs. “Just be careful. It’d be a shame if you slipped and broke your neck now.” 

Brooke took Katya’s warning, making sure she ascended slowly and carefully. The steps were each knee high to Katya, so Brooke did have it a little easier. Still, she wasn’t going to be overly confident and get herself injured. At the top of the stairs, Katya kneeled, her naked hand outstretched. Brooke huffed out a breath and thrust her gloved hand into Katya’s. Katya pulled -- surprisingly strong for her stature -- and Brooke threw her upper body at Katya’s feet. 

By the time she’d made the last ten or so steps into Katya’s cabin, Brooke was really and truly shivering. Mercifully, the cabin was insulated, well lit, and warm. Katya gave Brooke orders in a softer, reedier voice than before, but Brooke didn’t really hear. She pulled off her gloves and shoes on instinct, unzipped her coat, pulled off Katya’s scarf. Only in her regular clothes, Brooke sat down next to the fireplace where Katya threw fresh kindling, stoking the hearth into a homey blaze. 

Brooke hugged her knees while she rubbed her hands in front of the fire. Behind her, Katya rummaged around and tossed a heavy blanket around Brooke’s shoulders. Brooke rocked herself by the warm fire, starting to thaw, while staring deep into the flames, hypnotized by the dancing light. Her focus was broken by the unmistakable sound of a shrieking kettle. Brooke Lynn jumped at the noise, blanket falling from her shoulders as she twisted her spine in the direction of the noise. 

Katya stood in a studio sized kitchenette, one palm facing Brooke, as if to steady her like a spooked animal. In the other hand she held a navy blue tea kettle. “I have coffee or black tea. I’m all out of creamer, but I’ve got plenty of sugar and local honey. What do you prefer?”

Brooke’s mind took a second to process. She closed her eyes in concentration. “Uh. Is is a little late for caffeine?”

Katya’s red mouth pulled into a glistening white smile. “Oh it’s never too early for caffeine in this zip code.”

Brooke barked a laugh. “There’s zip codes out here? I’ll take coffee with a generous dollop of honey.”

The coffee was instant, but Brooke didn’t expect artisan quality out here. She stirred with a tiny spoon and swallowed past the bitterness. She hummed, the hot drink doing better to warm her insides than the cigarette. She resituated the blanket to cover her front while her back faced the fire. “Thank you,” she said. “You saved my life.”

Katya shrugged. “Every couple of months some sorry sack of shit gets themself turned around lookin’ for that goddamn petroglyph. Decided it’s my job to keep ‘em from dying of exposure.”

Brooke’s brows creased. “Petroglyph?”

Katya nodded. “Wasn’t that why you left the trail?”

Brooke shook her head, then looked down as she remembered why she’d come all the way out here in the first place. 

“Running from something?” Katya suggested.

“What? Oh. No, I…” Brooke shook her head. “God, it’s embarrassing.”

“Not gonna make you tell if you don’t want to.” Katya stood. “D’you eat meat?”

“No, yeah, I do. Eat meat.” Brooke cringed internally.

“‘Kay good, I’ve got some casserole in the mini fridge. Doesn’t taste the best, but it’s nutrients. That drink warmed up your appetite? You’ve had quite the workout getting up here.”

Brooke did feel her hunger for the first time in hours. She’d been running on adrenaline and Cliff bars all day. Shit. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’m not fussy.”

“Good.”

The casserole warmed unevenly on Katya’s hot plate, a sensory aspect that would have normally put Brooke off the whole dish. However, she was suddenly ravenously hungry, and she just made sure to keep stirring the food in her tupperware so it was at least evenly lukewarm. Katya cautioned her not to eat too fast, physically pulling her dinner away a few times to force Brooke to take it easy. By the time she’d scarfed down every last trace from her container, Brooke’s belly was uncomfortably full. 

“Okay, now before you crash,” said Katya. “D’you still speak to your parents on a regular basis?”

Brooke stretched her back and shoulders, trying to take pressure off her crampy stomach. “Uh, yeah, my mom’s like my best friend.”

Katya returned with what looked like a handheld radio, only the size of a brick. “D’you know her number? Kids these days with their speed dial never having to memorize a phone number--”

“Hers is actually one of the two people’s numbers I do know by heart.” She held out her hand for what she realized was a satellite phone. 

“Who’s the other?”

Brooke made no reply as she dialed her moms number complete with area code and waited. She checked the clock and realized that she was in peak sleeping hours for her mom. Before she got up at four am to get her day started, Mama Hytes was out like a light. The robotic voicemail answered. 

“Does she know how to check her messages?” asked Katya.

Brooke nodded, waiting for the dial tone. She left her message saying that she was fine, but would be unreachable until tomorrow, when Katya said she’d be able to take Brooke back into town. After hanging up, Brooke drew the blanket across her chest. “She’s gonna be so upset that she missed me.”

“She’ll forget that as soon as she sees you again,” said Katya.

Brooke guffawed, a belch escaping at the end. “God. ‘Scuse me. Good food.”

Katya rested her cheekbone on her hand. “Told you to slow down.”

“You did.” Brooke held up her palms.

Katya started rocking herself in a lush easy chair facing Brooke. “There anyone else you should try? Manager, roommates, friends?”

Brooke shook her head, her eyes half closed. “I usually hang with my work friends on sundays since we all get sunday off, but,” she yawned. “They’ll just think I got tied up.” Brooke smiled at Katya. “Which I kinda did.”

Katya showed another heart-stopping smile. Getting up to stoke the fire again, she asked, “Why _ did _ you come up the mountain?”

Brooke shook her head and covered her face with her blanket. “Ugh. Some cute girl said she went on this hike and found like the most perfect, spirit-centering view when she went off-trail.”

“This cute girl sounds like she’s recruiting poor lesbians like ourselves to be dinner for her cannibal family. Cannily? Fannibal. No, I think that’s fans of the show Hannibal.”

Brooke giggled, her eyes falling shut all the way as she felt herself pulled into sleep.

“Good night, miss Brooke.”

Brooke couldn’t drag her eyes open, but she held out her arm in Katya’s general direction. “Hey. ‘M gonna find a way to make it up to you… tomorrow.”

* * *

  
When Brooke first woke up, her immediate thought was: I’ve been kidnapped.

Sitting up on Katya’s couch, Brooke gazed around. Last night’s fire had gone out, the ashes swept already. Katya must have dried Brooke’s snow-soaked clothing by the fire overnight, as now her socks, hoodie and jeans were all folded and piled up nicely on top of each other, ready to be reunited on Brooke’s body. 

“Oh, you’re up,” noted Katya, closing the bathroom door behind her. 

Brooke’s full bladder rejoiced at the sight of indoor plumbing. She threw off one of the quilts Katya had draped over her in the night. Reaching to pull on her socks, Brooke asked “How long did I sleep?”

Katya slurped from a thermos and gazed at the woodworked clock on her mantlepiece. “Figure you crashed around eight, eight-thirty?”

Brooke’s jaw dropped. “I haven’t gone to bed that early since I was in first grade.”

“That’s no easy trek you made yesterday, kid. You’re not an experienced hiker, even if you’re clearly in shape. I get worn out doing that climb and I fucking live up here.” 

Katya walked over to check a cabinet and Brooke rose to her full, 6”3’ height, eyeing up the bathroom door. “Speaking of living, you have indoor plumbing?”

Katya shrugged. “Ish. It’s not the best -- pretty much always smells, but--”

The door slammed shut behind Brooke. Katya couldn’t help a smile crossing her face. The acoustics in the cabin didn’t usually cater to privacy, as her cabin was intended for only one occupant, so in her kitchenette, Katya could pretty much hear everything going on on the opposite side of that door. After a solid two minutes of hearing her guest pee, Katya tapped on the door to ask if everything was alright. 

“I haven’t had to pee this much this bad since St Patrick’s Day 2017.” 

“I believe you. Good news is it’s early enough in the season I still have some perishables. I’m not so sure how good the eggs still are. I do have powdered. Got real oatmeal, got some yogurt about to expire, some freeze-dried fruit, also some game meat, but I doubt you’re that kinda gal.”

“I’ve never had real oatmeal before,” said Brooke hopefully. 

“Your wish is my command.” Katya shifted to get Brooke’s breakfast started.

“Not now, though!”

Katya spun around on her heel to stand back against the bathroom door. “What?”

“It’s too early right now, I have to wait an hour or so after I wake up to eat.” 

The persistent tinkling echo had stopped by this point. 

Katya nodded. “Oooh. Right. You’re one of those. Yeah, I had a girlfriend a while back who’d get all pukey if she ate too soon after waking up.”

The door opened and Brooke emerged, wiping her hands. “You have one of those right now?”

“What?”

Brooke looked at Katya, unafraid of the answer. “A girlfriend. Or partner.”

Katya made a face that suggested some complicated kind of backstory. 

Brooke rephrased. “Is there someone you’re seeing who is exclusively seeing you and will get upset if you hook up with someone else?”

That, Katya could answer confidently. “Uh, no. There is -- no.”

Brooke smiled and hid her hands behind her back. “Then can I tell you something in complete honesty? Or am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes-- no, I mean a little, ah…” Katya’s face was very pink. “God, just, say the thing.”

Brooke took a step toward Katya, and when the mountaineer didn’t move away, Brooke extended her long arms to rest on Katya’s waist. “I really want to show you my gratitude for how nice and welcoming you’ve been to me.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I _ want _ to,” Brooke said wistfully, cupping Katya’s cheek. Her thumb tugged at the other woman’s bottom lip.

Katya cleared her throat. “And, what did you have in mind?”

Brooke smiled. “In plain terms: I like pussy. I have to assume yours is really pretty. It must get so lonely up here. I wanna rub the warmth back into your pussy.” Devilishly, Brooke pulled both her hands back from Katya’s flannel-clad body. She took a step back. _ “If _you’d be into that.”

“I am. Very. Into that.” 

Brooke smiled and reached out her arm to pull Katya in. Brooke may have been back in her jeans from yesterday, but Katya was in a full color coordinating red and black flannel set. Brooke started in on Katya’s jaw, ear, neck, while she let the other woman’s hands wander up her cotton shirt. 

“Oh,” Katya hummed. “You’ve been in a sports bra this whole time?”

Brooke brought her right hand to cup the front of Katya’s pants. “You wanna let the girls out?” Katya could only let out a soft wheeze, so Brooke pulled her hand away, making the mountain woman gasp at the loss.

Brooke whipped off her shirt in a flash. Katya gently guided them from the kitchenette to the living area, to the nest of quilts on the couch. “Sit,” she said. Her guest looked up at her with seductive eyes. Katya absentmindedly swept hair out of Brooke’s face while she looked for her fire poker. “Can’t have you getting cold again. How about, I get the fire restarted, and by the time I turn back around--”

“Gotcha.”

Brooke watched Katya’s hands and legs shake as she tried to keep her mind focused on finding her matches, kindling and another pre-cut log. She took a breath and worked up the strength to force the nylon and cotton contraption up her chest and over her head. Unfortunately, it got stuck over her face. Brooke let out a frustrated growl and shook her upper body, trying to fling it off like a rubber band. 

Katya let out a chuckle. If Brooke’s face had been visible, she would see just how red it was. “A little help?” huffed Brooke. Katya’s answer came in the sensation of the bra being pulled over the back of Brooke’s head, tangling in her long hair. “Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry, here lemme--” Katya pulled the fabric off of Brooke’s face. Brooke sucked in a quick deep breath while Katya gently pulled Brooke’s bra out of her hair. She did have to yank a few strands out of Brooke’s scalp to do it, though. “Sorry,” she said again.

Brooke rubbed the back of her head where her hair had been pulled out. “Hey,” she said, tapping Katya’s flannel-clad knee. “You apologise more than I do. Don’t come for my Canada Gig.”

Katya laughed. “So long as you let me keep my visa, we should be good.”

Brooke sat. Katya half-kneeled on the couch in front of her. For a few moments, there was only the subtle sound of the fire growing in the hearth, and each others breathing. Katya was the first to break eye contact, swallowing as she looked down upon Brooke’s bare chest. Without thinking, she went to touch the red marks left behind by Brooke’s restrictive bra. 

“Yeah,” said Brooke, leaning back on her arms to give Katya full reign over her chest and abs. “Probably not supposed to wear it for eighteen hours straight. That’s my bad.”

Katya’s fingers traced up the sides of Brooke’s right breast. She shivered. “You cold?”

Brooke drew her fingers up under Katya’s jaw. “I’m ready for things to heat up.”

Katya leaned forward and connected their lips. She brought up her other leg onto the couch so she kneeled over Brooke, who kept reclining back into the cushions and quilts. Katya’s hands wandered over Brooke’s collarbones, her neck, her shoulders. Brooke’s fingers fiddled with the buttons on Katya’s shirt. Katya shifted back on her haunches, taking fast, deep breaths as she finished Brooke’s job for her. 

“You’re inked.” Brooke’s eyes lit up and she reached up to trace her fingers over the beginnings of a curling hip tattoo. 

“So are you.” Katya leaned down to draw her thumb across a chintzy white girl tattoo on Brooke’s forearm. “What even is this supposed to be?”

Brooke laughed, blushing. “Yeah, it’s like the solar system, see?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Oh shut up, I know yours are way cooler.” Brooke sat up and stretched her hands to window over Katya’s shoulder. “God, just wanna trace these lines with my tongue.”

Katya let out a laugh. “Lick away, then.”

Brooke started sucking below Katya’s collarbone while trailing her fingertips down Katya’s torso. Katya shuddered under Brooke’s gentle touches. She clenched her legs together and jerked her hips, clearly looking for friction. Brooke scraped her teeth against Katya’s arm and pinched a pink nipple. “Eager beaver,” Brooke chided. “God, how long has it been for you?”

Katya kicked her feet, digging the back of her head into the couch. 

Brooke drew a hand down Katya’s hip and across her thighs. “You don’t want to be touched with icy cold fingers.” She tapped where Katya’s legs were squished together. “Why don’t you help warm ‘em up?”

Katya responded by opening her legs all the way into a sideways split. 

Brooke let out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re an athletic bitch like me.” Brooke stood up just long enough to shimmy out of her jeans. Once she was unrestrained, Brooke resituated herself into a split of her own, each of her feet hanging off the arms of the couch, her long legs covering its whole length. She perched her cunt right over Katya’s, and stared right into the mountain woman’s blown-out eyes. Katya had one of her knees hanging over the back of the couch and the other propping her foot on the floor. Her flannel pants rode up on her calves. Brooke reached over to run her hand up and down one of Katya’s strong calves and hummed. “Even up here in the middle of nowhere, with no one to impress,” Brooke cooed. “You still shave.”

Katya swallowed, her throat bobbing in the warm firelight. “It’s a hygiene thing. For me! Not that-- I’m not saying you’re disgusting if you are--”

Brooke pressed a finger to Katya’s lips. “I don’t wanna hear that kind of talk.”

“What _ do _ you want?” asked Katya around Brooke’s digit. 

Brooke smiled devilishly. Achingly slow, the hiker started to gyrate her hips, pressing down against Katya’s pussy, feeling the pressure and friction making her own clit throb. Brooke massaged Katya’s thigh, knowing her fingers had warmed up by now. With her left hand, Brooke pinched Katya’s chin, forcing her to lock eyes. Katya fidgeted, her brow creasing. Brooke noticed a sheen of sweat already gathering on Katya’s forehead and chest. She leaned down and sucked at the bead of moisture that had gathered on Katya’s upper lip. Onto Katya’s cheek she breathed, “Tell me how you want it.”

When Katya didn’t respond, Brooke stopped grinding, eliciting a whine from her partner. Brooke spoke in between pressing kisses to Katya’s cheekbones, ears, jaw, and brow. “I can do hard, fast, make-you-forget-your-own-name.” Katya choked out a breath. “I can do pain, push your limits, make you come so many times you lose count.” Katya whined and reached for Brooke’s hips. 

Brooke kissed her teeth while walking her fingers down Katya’s windpipe. “But you’ve got the nice fire going, you fed me a big dinner last night, you let me talk to my family, so I _ guess _ I can also give it to you slow and sensual, if that’s what you want.”

Katya’s eyes opened and she shook her head. “Fuck me,” she breathed. “Fingers. Don’t hurt me, though.”

“Not on purpose.” Brooke slid her right hand down Katya’s thigh, finally making contact with her slippery cunt. Just while Brooke spread Katya’s juices around her pussy, the woman beneath her reacted as if she was being electrocuted. “You don’t have neighbors,” crooned Brooke. “No need to keep it all inside.” 

She brushed a knuckle up against Katya’s clit and jumped back from the howl of pleasure that Katya let out. As Brooke worked Katya’s clit from the outside, rolling the internal part between her knuckles, Brooke gently pressed down at the base of Katya’s throat. Katya huffed out sharp breaths, her head rolling back with every wave of pleasure and by God she was putty in Brooke’s hands.

“Want me to make your pussy sing?” Brooke leaned down to whisper in Katya’s ear. “Want me to keep playing with your clit? Do you want my fingers inside you, stretching you open? Or you want my mouth on your pretty pussy?” She nibbled at Katya’s ear lobe. “Say it and it’s yours.”

Katya moaned and clenched around Brooke’s hand. “Finish me,” she begged. “Your mouth.”

All Brooke had to do was breathe against Katya’s clit to make her squeal. The mountain woman reached out, making a grabby hand, practically begging. Brooke granted Katya her non-dominant hand, which had been squeezing her ass and thighs while she worked her pussy over. Now, Brooke steadied Katya’s hips with her right hand and brought her lips to place a chaste kiss on Katya’s clit. 

Katya let out a gruff breath. “Quit teasing.”

Brooke complied, and Katya started howling. She was moaning, groaning, gasping, her noises the best motivation Brooke had ever had. Katya gripped Brooke’s hand for dear life. It hurt. But Brooke sensed it, the way Katya’s energy shook, the way her moans got rhaspier and shorter, until. Until Katya went silent. Until her muscles all contracted at once. 

Brooke left Katya’s oversensitive clit alone once she came, moving instead to lap up all the lovely wetness that had collected between Katya’s legs and down Brooke’s chin. As Katya continued to shudder through her aftershocks, Brooke watched her body in the firelight. The way her chest and abs engorged with every shaky breath. The contours and highlights of her muscles, camouflaged by the eccentric designs that wound their way around Katya’s chest and arms. 

“What’re you looking at?” panted Katya.

Brooke pushed sweat-slicked hair away from one of Katya’s eyes. “Wondering how many you have on your back,” she said honestly.

“What?”

Brooke tossed hair out of her own face. “I haven’t seen your back nearly as much as your front. There could be tats back there I don’t know of.”

Katya has to take a few seconds to process as well as catch her breath. Shaking her head, she said, “I have a couple between my shoulder blades. This one leaks onto the back a little.” She pointed to her waist-- some script in a language Brooke didn’t recognize.

Brooke smirked. “No tramp stamp?”

Katya let out a chuckle. “No.”

“Damn.” Brooke looked down. 

Katya took Brooke’s hand in both of her own and started pressing kisses to her knuckles. “Can’t feel my legs to change positions, but you can sit on my face.”

Brooke looked up in surprise. “What? No--”

“But I wanna.” Katya looked up at her with cool blue puppy dog eyes. 

Despite the curling in her belly, and how humid things were in Brooke’s own basement, she staunchly refused. “No. That’s-- this is paying you back for your hospitality. I’m not letting you return the favor.” 

It was at this exact moment, when Katya was about to protest, that Brooke’s stomach growled. Katya burst out in a flailing, wheezing laugh, and Brooke folded her arms across her belly in chagrin, her face and neck going red. 

Katya patted Brooke on the thigh. “Aww, babe. Okay, so there’s one way I can take care of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to AQ a couple weeks ago and I straight up forgot to post here.


End file.
